How Lucky We Are To Be Alive Right Now
by DarkInTheShadows
Summary: The kid who always wore a scarf, that's who he was. To every other person on Earth, he was just that. But suddenly after he's missed nearly a week of school, rumors start flying. Now, Alexander Hamilton is on everybody's mind throughout the day. Who was he? What happened to him?
1. Chapter 1: The Boy With The Scarf

**I wanted to do this really bad, and it's been unfinished for a bit, so I decided to start back up on it. This was extremely fun, but also challenging and kind of hard because I know that many of the themes for this are very mature, and I'm going to get into some serious topics.**

 **TW: Mention of abuse, Mention of bullying, Mention of neglect, Anxiety and depression symptoms/behavior, Mention of physical attack.**

 **As you can tell, this is a pretty heavy story. Also, if I miss any triggers can you please tell me? I have a tendency to go overboard with these kinds of things, but better to be safe than sorry.**

* * *

Alexander Hamilton, the kid who was bullied, abused, harassed, and so many more things.

Everyone had always stayed away from him, immediately when he moved to New York City he was a target for the school's biggest bullies.

He had always worn a sweatshirt, jeans, and a scarf.

Always long sleeves, always long pants, always had his neck covered.

John never batted an eye at him, no one did except Thomas Jefferson, who made Alex's life even more of a living hell.

To everyone else, Alexander was a mysterious, loner type of kid.

That changed when the boy who had straight A's, the boy who had never missed a single day, missed an entire week.

Rumors started flying, and the invisible boy was suddenly the biggest mystery in the school.

The first time John had heard about Alexander was on Wednesday, the third day in a row that he was gone.

John, Hercules, and Lafayette sat at their usual table in the cafeteria, eating their lunch.

"So, you know that Alexander Hamilton kid?" Hercules was the first to bring him up.

"Who?" John wasn't sure who that was.

"He apparently goes to our school. Straight A's, never missed a day of school, this is the third day he's been gone."

"The one who always wears a hoodie and a scarf?" Lafayette asked, moving his attention from his salad to his friends.

"Yeah, him. He's been going here for about three months. Some kids say they saw him with a black eye or something a lot," Hercules shook his head, taking another bite of his burger.

"Wait, I think I overheard some kids saying that they think Jefferson beat him up a lot," John hadn't realized it at the time, but now he slightly remembered.

"Yeah, I've heard that too. Some kids say that they think he was abused or something, always said he was super anxious like that," Hercules flinched, reminiscing on the grave memory.

"I think I heard someone say he was a foster kid, a messed up one at that," Lafayette didn't mean to sound insensitive, he was a foster himself.

"Three months? How would no one notice him?" John had valid reasons for wondering this, _three months_ , and still, no one knew who you were or even noticed your existence, that would have broken John.

"I don't know. I feel kinda bad, though. If he was going through that shit and no one even noticed," Hercules closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Everyone at that small table section felt the same remorse, that someone could go through that with no friends, with no social outlet.

They all looked up when they heard Jefferson's laughter nearing them.

Jefferson looked them up and down with a disgusted expression, then walked away.

They all broke into laughter, not caring what Jefferson thought.

The conversation turned away from the disturbing topic, rooting more towards more light-hearted subjects. But still, that sinking feeling about _Alexander Hamilton_ scorching John's gut.

The next two days went by normally, still no mysterious scarf boy, making many more theories and absurdities-at least John hoped they were-surface.

It all went smoothly until the next afternoon at roll call at the end of the Thursday school day.

The teacher walked in, wearing a forlorn facial expression.

"Alright, alright, settle down." He went through every name, but what he said next was… well, crazy. "And, do any of you know Alexander Hamilton personally?"

His eyes were met with the shaking heads and confused faces of the students, merely nodding in response.

It seems that that would be the start of more whispers, the school growing restless with every minute that there was no new news on Alexander Hamilton.

Ha, the boy who no one knew existed, he went to the school for three months, Christ. And everyone's just finding out he was even born. Jesus Christ!

So, if he is a foster, then he might have just been moved to a new household. No, the school would be informed. Maybe he just got sick. No again, why wouldn't his guardian call the school?

John went through a few other possibilities, but they all went back to his guardian and the system.

* * *

On Monday morning, everyone was expecting to see the infamous Alexander Hamilton, but there came of no such boy. Instead, they were called to the auditorium.

Their principal, George Washington, sat with their superintendent, Phillip Schuyler, and vice principal, John Adams. Shit. This was about to go down.

"Hello, students. Today, we have the annual festivities for the month of October. Now, you will be grouped by your homeroom classes. Phones are allowed today. You may not leave campus without teacher and school knowledge and permission."

Mr. Washington went through a few other rules. John thought that that was the end of it, he thought everyone else probably thought so, too.

Before he could speak, Mr. Schuyler took over.

"And, another thing. A few of you will be taken to the office for voluntary actions. Your teacher will have you go down to the office to see Mr. Washington or Mr. Adams."

Everyone in the room started theorizing once more, wondering if it was about who they thought it was.

* * *

I think everyone was secretly hoping they would be chosen to whatever was happening, hoping that it would be about the Alexander Hamilton that was the topic of many of our thoughts. Everyone craved information, closure. We didn't even know the kid, yet it seemed that everyone in the school was constantly fretting over him.

What I wondered was what would happen when-if-he came back to school. Sure, I would love it if this kid was okay, from what I've heard, he has been living in Hell for years. Then again, what did he have to do with me and my friends?

It took me a second when the intercom called six names to go to the office. Hercules Mulligan, Marquis de Lafayette-it seems they couldn't be bothered to say his entire name-, John Laurens-fucking great-, Angelica Schuyler, Eliza Schuyler, and Peggy Margarita Schuyler. Wait, what?

Herc, Laf, and I stood, it seems we were all shocked that they called us. What was really shocking was that the Schuyler sisters were called, too. I mean, they were incredible, intelligent girls, but… they just seemed like they would protect each other over anyone else. Except for Eliza, of course.

Elizabeth-or "Eliza" as everyone called her- was the middle child, yet she was so warm and caring, she was friends with anyone and everyone. There were only a few exceptions, clearly, but you have to be absolutely _ruthless_ to earn Eliza's hatred. I'm surprised Eliza didn't know Alexander, she was more often than not always hanging around new kids so that they wouldn't get lost or confused. She was an angel.

Outside the office door, the three sisters sat in chairs aligned against a wall, obviously, they hadn't gotten much information. A second glance at Eliza and I could see she was tearing up. Had she known Alexander? What was his demeanor? Was he as big of a douche as Seabury, or, God forbid, Lee?

We all took our places in a small cluster outside of Mr. Washington's office, awaiting whatever news and tasks that were being expected of us, even though Mr. Washington had said it was a "voluntary action."

It was only a few moments before the door opened, showing Mr. Washington and Mr. Schuyler, the former in a leather-armed chair, the latter at his desk with his hands fiddling and posture stiff.

"Thank you all for coming, now, once I tell what is happening, you can either go on or you can back out. If you refuse, you cannot share this information with anyone, though I trust none of you would do that," Mr. Washington was speaking once we had all entered the suboffice, Mr. Schuyler nodding along with the words.

"Now, this is a very large responsibility. We, Mr. Washington, Mr. Adams, and I, believe that each of you is responsible and trustworthy, so you have been chosen. I have already called each of your parents and have gotten consent, so there will be no need for permission from your guardians." Mr. Schuyler's voice was quite robotic and would have been incredibly boring if it had not been that everyone was hanging off every syllable.

The Schuyler Sisters nodded in unison with Laf, Herc, and I. In my peripheral vision I could see matching expressions of fear on Eliza and Peggy, and a frown and creases etched into Angelica's features.

"All of you agree?" we all knew this question-or clarification, to me it was not clear-was unnecessary.

We all nodded once more, seriousness taking over all of our bodies and itching at our skin. What was so important? What was so terrifying that it gave everyone goosebumps? Everything seemed to be underwater, noises muffled, even though the silence was possibly the loudest thing to ever exist.

"Alright."

I had to brace myself for what was about to be said.

"I'm sure all of are aware of Alexander Hamilton." those words, of course, we know who Alexander Hamilton, who was the person the entire school was talking about? Who no one paid a glance to for _three months._ Goddammit, John, this isn't the time. What is he was trying to stay out of everyone's way? I didn't know why this hit me so hard, but it did. Like a cannonball hitting a steel wall, not necessarily breaking it, however, still shaking it.

Mr. Washington deemed this a good enough response, as he continued on. "He has been going through some things, and I believe that you six can help him."

"Eliza, didn't you say that you have met him before?" Mr. Schuyler shook the entire world to us at that moment. Eliza had met him? Why hadn't she said anything?

Tears fell down Eliza's face like a small creek in a large forest, nearly silent, flowing gracefully, but this creek was saddened, a million miles away from peaceful.

Everyone had their eyes on her, Angelica shifted to comfort her sister in an embrace, Peggy doing the same. It took her a minute to calm enough to nod her head as an answer to the previous inquiry.

"He… he was really anxious. Like, flight at any second, anxious." Eliza's creek-like tears had turned into a river, flowing much more urgently and roughly, much louder and off-putting.

Mr. Washington nodded, but… why was Alexander still not at school? What happened? Similar questions hung over my head. "Yes, the teachers have reported such behavior. But, there is something else that has happened. Honestly, the administrators should have suspected something like this was going to happen eventually, there were warning signs."

This mini tangent arose many more questions. Though, to sum them up, they all led up to 'What happened?'

Mr. Schuyler knew what we were thinking, or maybe he just inferred his next move by the mixed looks of confusion, slight horror, and bewilderment. "Now, we shall not beat around the bush any longer."

The Schuyler Sisters hooked arms with Laf, Herc, and I, all searching comfort in each other.

"Yes. Mr. Hamilton was attacked by a person or persons the police are not yet aware of."

* * *

 **For a while, I thought this was going a different way, but then I thought of the ending. Just to clarify, this is a high school, foster (that will definitely come into play very soon), modern au. I saw this Pinterest writing prompt about a kid who always wore a scarf, and I thought that this was super cool.**

 **Also, the way Alexander's style and behavior will be very,** _ **very,**_ **crucial, so make sure to keep a lookout for stuff like that, they'll help with a few things in future chapters, too.**

 **I do not have this one previously written, and with school, dance (we are starting to learn our new choreography and skills), along with my school's band, I do not have as much time I wish I did to write. Halloween's coming up, too, so I'm starting to make plans for holidays.**

 **Stay safe, have a good day. Bye!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Ghost of the Past

**Hi! Thank you so,** _ **so**_ **much for reviewing and favoriting my stories! It makes my day when I get to open my notifications and read them. It's truly my motivation, aside from just loving to write. Again, thank you so much!**

 **I was planning this chapter out, yes, I do that. It's mainly because I am a perfectionist, and I always have a need to get everything I write or draw to meet my criteria in which I decide if it's good enough for my standards (I sound very terrible currently, I am aware). Back to what I was saying-or writing, whichever-I left so much I could do and so many possibilities, and I felt like a few different routes. It'll become more apparent in upcoming chapters, but I felt like this was the right way to go.**

 **Life's caught up with me. I, unfortunately, have barely any time to write between band, school, and dance. And have I mentioned that humanity is falling apart? I'm having a panic attack every day from either people at my school or American politics. Also, my best friends aren't talking to me anymore and I don't know why. But let's move away from the random topics of my life and do something better.**

 **And I can't thank any of you enough for being patient with me for my long breaks. It gets hard once you have piles of homework. I'm starting to get into a routine, and I'm trying to work my writing into it (though you can most likely see how that's going). But I'm working things out, I swear.**

 **By the way, this is a continued version of Chapter 1.**

 **TW: Illusion to child abuse, illusion to bullying, illusion/mention of physical abuse/attack**

* * *

We were shocked. Of course, we were, we were just told that some kid was _attacked._ Sure, we might not have known him-well, Eliza might have-but he was still a teenager, still a human being.

"We do not wish to elaborate, but you six have to agree to help him. You have a few rules that you will need to follow, otherwise, we believe that each of you is mature enough to act on your instincts and that you will be positive in this…" Mr. Schuyler paused, thinking of the word, " _experience._ "

What the hell? I always thought that the school faculty was crazy, but this was next level bat-shit crazy. Why were we getting into this fucking mess? He was most likely some messed up kid who just broke. I wouldn't blame him, everyone and everything in this country were falling apart. I've heard the foster horror stories, he was probably one of those.

"He… he always acted anxiously… I should have told someone… I… I could have done something to… to help…" Eliza choked out words between sobs, muffled by Angelica's shoulder.

If Eliza had known him, why didn't she just speak up the last week? Would have been helpful, with, I don't know, figuring out what was wrong with him? I don't even know why I'm so angry. I didn't even know him, but I just feel like he didn't deserve this.

"We will guide you all for a few weeks, then we hope you will be close enough to him to help him with recovery. He is currently in the hospital, he will be for about one more week. Alexander is also being moved to another foster home nearby, and I believe you six can really bring him back." Mr. Washington scanned us all over inconspicuously, none of us noticing his slight discomfort.

 _Bring him back?_ What the fuck? We didn't know who he was, even if Eliza said she knew him a little bit, we didn't know a thing about who he was, where he's been, what he's done. It would be ignorant to try to understand what he's been through. _Why am I defending him?_

That's when I realized. The memories came flooding in a rush, eager to replenish lost pain.

* * *

"Alright, class. Settle down, we have a new student. Come up here and introduce yourself."

A small Latino kid rose from the back of the class, assured, confident, _stunning._ He walked to the front of the classroom, standing beside the teacher and her podium.

"I'm Alexander Hamilton, I'm 13, and I'm from Nevis in the Caribbean." His voice was toxin running through my veins and through my body.

His tan skin glowed in the bright school lights, bringing out every angle of his beautiful body. He had large mahogany doe eyes, mixing perfectly with his dwarfing stature. His nose perked up at the end, bringing out his perfect lips.

"Alright, thank you, Alexander. You may go sit next to… Marquis." Mrs. Adams's voice grounded me back to reality as Alexander sat next to Lafayette, who sat directly in front of me.

* * *

"So, you're from the Caribbean?" I sat down outside for lunch with Laf, Herc, and the new kid.

"Yeah. My entire family was from there. All born islanders." He picked at his sandwich, instead taking a bite of an apple.

"Where's Nevis again? I'm from one of the most known cities in the world, and I was very… very…" Lafayette snapped his fingers. Once he found the perfect he shot his head up and pointed at no one in particular. "Amused! The schools were so small, and there were barely in anyone in them!"

Hercules rolled his eyes. "Laf, the school we go to is larger than many other schools. There are nearly 230,000 people in Richmond. It's bigger than a bunch of other places."

They continued on this spiel for a few more minutes while Alexander and I talked about any and everything.

"Wait. So you are naturally _as_ dark as Laf is?" Lafayette was very tan, spending hours outside since he was a young child. He could have been a quarterback if he wanted to, but he was more interested in music and fashion by a long shot.

"Yeah! When I was younger I would immediately be outside playing soccer or swimming once the sun was barely up." Alex rolled up his pant leg to prove a point, though his skin was noticeably paler than Lafayette's, I could clearly imagine a smaller, much tanner Alexander running along a beach dribbling a soccer ball.

* * *

Maria raised her hand. "Mrs. Adams? Where's Alexander? He hasn't been to school in the past few days."

It had been three months since Alexander Hamilton had started going to our school. I had known I was gay since 6th grade, had had a few boy crushes since then, but this 8th-grade crush was something else. _Alexander_ was something else.

He was smart, funny, witty… I felt myself wishing to feel his hand in mine since the moment I first saw him. I felt broken when he hadn't come to school two days ago but passed it off as just a stomach bug or something of the sort, even though it got stranger and stranger with every day he was gone.

"Ah, yes… Alexander moved just the other day. I was informed this morning that he would not be attending here any longer." I hated Mrs. Adams. She was always so formal, always cold to her students. If someone said that I _despised her with every cell on Earth_ at that moment, they would be right.

* * *

I remembered how he hadn't worn a scarf once in those two months, and I vaguely recalled him not wearing a scarf for the first week that he attended this high school. The scarf couldn't correlate with him being… _attacked…_ could it?

"Didn't… didn't he used to go here for a few months in junior high?" my voice was far and hesitant, feeling a million miles away from my usually loud and confident demeanor.

Mr. Washington nodded for a split second before he began talking in a slightly soothing voice-probably because he didn't want Eliza to further unravel-once more. "Yes, he did. He was transferred to a different foster placement in New Jersey. We don't know much else about his experiences with the foster system, and if we did, we would leave that to him to explain to all of you."

What the actual fuck have I gotten myself into. What if this was actually something really fucked up, and we hadn't a clue about? _Three fucking months._ I still couldn't get over that. _Three months!_ Yeah, sure, totally reasonable to just outright _ignore_ a kid that was most likely being abused, bullied, and God knows what else.

"Do… do we know anything else? About him?" Peggy's voice was nothing like her usual cheery self. _Of course, she was. She was an innocent girl who was just drug into the middle of a shithole._

"Not much, no. And we do not wish to spread false information. I believe that it isn't our place to tell any more, leave that to Alexander. We have already contacted his new foster parents and you will be meeting them at some point, and meeting Alexander soon, too." Mr. Schuyler seemed like he was suggesting something more, but if he was, it flew over our heads.

We all nodded, though we all felt nauseous. I remembered how small Alexander had always been, what if he was that small unwillingly? What if it wasn't just because of the income? What if there was more hiding underneath that scarf? _No._ I couldn't think of this. _I wouldn't think of this._ I knew that the thought had crossed everyone in the school who had the rumors' minds. But, with every time that something of the sort came to mind, I became progressively light-headed.

"Okay. You six have to plan out a date and time to meet him. I think it would be preferable that all of you were together." Mr. Washington spoke with utmost nervousness like this was one of the most delicate subjects he had ever dealt with. _It probably was._

We all nodded, the action we continuously repeated; if I spoke, I would definitely throw up. I think the same could go for everyone else. We went through the dates that were possible to meet Alexander at the hospital, deciding that today after school would be fine. _Like we could do anything else._

Luckily, by the time we were finished, it was time for lunch. Coincidentally, Eliza had the same lunch period as us. And since we were all chosen to help Alexander, we all got the same lunch. We barely ate anything, knowing that we had to comprehend what had happened before we digested food.

This was going to be one hell of a year.

* * *

 **I wanted to stop it here because I felt like it was a good place to stop, and honestly, I wanted to get something out to Y'all. It makes me so happy when I get a notification that my stories were reviewed or favorited or one of you followed it. I love getting feedback, and I have been getting a lot more than I thought I would have.**

 **Also, I will be going more in depth later with everyone's previous relationships with Alex. And I wanted to add some things about John's mixed emotions with the whole situation, which will also come more into effect when the group meets Alex.**

 **Things are about to get crazy. The next few chapters are going to be a rollercoaster of emotions. I have some real hurt/comfort fluff comin' up for everyone.**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter (even though it was quite short), and again, thank you** _ **so**_ **much for reviewing my stuff. Have a nice day, and stay happy.**


	3. Chapter 3: Part 1

Yo! So, apologies for the lack of writing. A bunch of shit keeps on happening? Y a y. This chapter will be in two parts, so keep a lookout for that!

 **Trigger warnings: Hospitals, hinted at/implied abusive households, self-hatred,**

* * *

I tried to process everything as Laf, Herc, Angelica, Eliza, Peggy, and I walked out of the school. We stayed after school for about half an hour and were taking Angelica's 7-passenger SUV and meeting his new foster parents at the hospital, and whoever they were they had to be fucking saints or something.

The fifteen-minute drive was awkward and tense, no one daring to make a noise, rather drowning in the bark of the engine and the howl of 3 p.m. traffic. Normally we would all be laughing and enjoying ourselves as if this was any casual Thursday, but we couldn't stop but wallow in somber expressions and grave thoughts.

We walked to the entrance of the hospital, all either hand-in-hand or arm-in-arm. Funny how I always despised touch from everyone no matter if they were Laf or a perfect stranger, yet when I was meeting someone that I had known once in a million stars I came to crave it. I remember how I had had such a huge crush on Alexander in seventh grade, even going into the year of the eighth grade. _Who am I kidding, I only got over him the summer of ninth grade._ He was like a best friend to me.

Thinking about it, I remember one day of seventh grade. That day when everyone got suspicious. The day that I wondered what happened behind closed doors. The day that I _finally_ realized that nothing is so pure.

* * *

"Alexander, how did you get that bruise?" We all were in the gym, school still not technically starting for another ten minutes.

We were all crowded in our small group in the bleachers. Lafayette, Hercules, Angelica, Eliza, Peggy, Maria, and I all were moving so we could see what Angelica was talking about.

Alexander shrugged, letting his dark brown hair fall and just barely cover his left eye. The way he had become so timid in the past week was alarming, to say the least, but he always insisted he was fine, just feeling ill.

But for some reason, that explanation didn't sit right with anyone, and now that he had a black eye that he hadn't had yesterday, we were all set on finding out what was going on in Alexander's home.

"Alex. Seriously. What really happened?" Angelica, being the oldest, decided that if no one was going to pursue the topic, it might as well be her.

He shrank into himself, then, he grabbed his backpack and moved to stand up. But before he could leave, Eliza pulled him gently back down by his hand. "Alex, please tell us what happened. We're worried, and if you're in danger then we want to be sure you get somewhere safe." Her words fell with such ease and combined with her soft tone, anyone would have fallen to her command.

But, when was Alexander ever like any other person?

He managed to break free and anxiously walked over to a kid named Aaron Burr, who presumably was slightly-no, _very-_ put off by his black eye. But Aaron moved over a seat and let Alexander sit down.

We were all left frowning and concerned, wondering _why the hell did he be so defensive?_ And especially, _how did he get that bruise?_

* * *

We stopped dead in our tracks. _What the hell?_ Standing before us was Mr. Washington and his wife, Martha Washington.

 _That's why he met up with everyone, idiot._ I pushed this self-deprecating thought of myself out of my head.

George Washington and his wife were Alexander's new foster parents. I didn't have time to dwell or question the fact, because before long I was being pulled toward them by Laf and Peggy. They seemed too caught up in the fact that they were about to achieve the answers everyone had been craving, though they may not be the most relieving.

"Oh, thank God you're all here. Thank you so much." Mrs. Washington shook all of our hands, nodding her head so that her dark brown and graying bun was bobbing at the back of her head, and making sure we were aware of how thankful she was.

Mrs. Washington was a relatively small woman, only in her early forties, but she had the sense of warmth in her grimace, and the sweetness in her voice that drew people in. She had slight-barely noticeable-wrinkles around her eyes that suggested a lifetime of happiness. Her dark brown eyes, tanned skin, and brown-black hair all gave off warm tones; one could only be left to wonder what she would have looked like in her early twenties.

"Alexander won't wake up for at least another day, or so the doctors are hoping. But we've gotten permission from his doctor and the nurses to allow two or three of you in the room with him at a time," Mr. Washington held his wife's hand, it shaking ever so slightly.

We all nodded in understanding, many ponytails or curls bobbing, or a beanie in Hercules's case. Weird, how everyone in our new group had at least one similar trait to another, whether it be a calm and reassuring personality, unruly curls, or anything, really.

We had barely known each other just two weeks ago, not caring whether the other got an A on a test or if they were alright after a breakup. But, now, at that moment, I felt like I was with my family. The people I would graduate with, all celebrating together; the people I could imagine visiting when we went to college and university; the people I would trust more than my biological family.

I stopped my thoughts. _Trust these people more than Martha, Mary, Harry, and James? Yeah, that would end you up back in Charleston with Father in a heartbeat._ No. I would not let that man who dares to share my last name stop me from whatever lay ahead. Yes, I trust my siblings, but they are too young to understand. I couldn't bear to see the kindness in their eyes disappear, and let myself be at fault.

 _Wait, what?_ I walked down a corridor labeled _Intensive Care Unit (ICU)_ with Laf and Peggy by my side, both holding on to me tight enough that if my knees gave out I would be safe from falling to the ground.

The three of us were led into a medium-sized room, and there didn't seem to be anyone in the room beside us, then I looked to my right and- _holy shit._

* * *

Hi! This is part one, and thank you for being so patient. I'm gonna write part two this weekend, and hopefully get it out within two weeks.


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